Natural Disasters Reveal Resilience: Watching the images of fires burning in and around Los Angeles is deeply triggering. Many Western North Carolinians likely feel the same way. It has not been long since Hurricane Helene caused catastrophic flooding, devastating our communities. And for us, the ordeal is far from over.
At first, you feel energized to tackle what needs to be done in the moment. But soon after, you are left with emptiness, exhaustion, and pain, trying to rebuild something that resembles what has been lost.
These emotional twists and turns—highs and lows—have been central to my experience of natural disasters. How can one prepare for these head-spinning feelings? The aftermath, the trauma following the immediate disaster, is often filled with losses: home, business, neighborhoods, community, routine, safety, even lives. The total disruption is overwhelming.
The Emotional Impact and Immediate Response
In the beginning, you hear countless awful stories. People you know lose family members and friends. Others lose their homes. Some places simply vanish. Chimney Rock, the village my family used to drive through on our way to Lake Lure, is gone. Highland Football Club’s soccer fields in Asheville, where our sons played, are gone. Biltmore Village, where we have eaten, shopped, and slept, is gone.
Then comes your own story. My family was safe, and our house, for the most part, remained intact. However, the office where I practice as a pediatrician—serving our community since 1952—was completely submerged under five feet of water. We lost everything on the first floor: walls, examination tables, files, flooring, cabinets, lab equipment, desks, and nursing stations. Only the cement slab and wall studs remained. Natural Disasters Reveal Resilience
Navigating Loss and Insurance Challenges
Initially, loss is the first and most palpable reality. Some lose every possession, others almost everything, and a few, none at all. Even those without material losses feel the impact, though they may sometimes seem to forget, existing in a usual, comfortable state.
After the loss, there is the matter of insurance—or lack thereof. Many here did not have flood insurance. On the Carolina coast, hurricanes destroy homes without wind insurance. In Los Angeles, people may not have the correct type of fire insurance. Even if you have the right insurance, receiving the money takes months—assuming the insurance company does not go bankrupt.
My business, Hendersonville Pediatrics, has yet to receive any payment from our insurance. We have four policies with two different providers, including two flood insurance policies. The delay in insurance payouts is frustrating, attributed to government-run programs, paperwork, and the bureaucracy involved. But the reality is, it’s about money—money that affects our ability to rebuild.
Community Support and Rebuilding Efforts
Despite the financial challenges, what stands out is the appearance of heroes—those flying helicopters to rescue people, clearing roads, putting out fires, restoring power, and ensuring clean, safe water. Our community has received generous donations of food, medicines, clothes, diapers, and sanitary products—things you don’t realize you need until they’re gone. Strangers from within the community show up to help, offering their support.
Pauline Carpenter at Free Clinics provided Hendersonville Pediatrics with space for a doctor four days a week. Richard Hudspeth and the Blue Ridge Health administration allowed us to rent an office for two doctors five days a week. Although these places are not home, they enable us to continue serving our patients.
The Ongoing Journey of Resilience
The disaster has not ended for us. It likely won’t, for years. It probably never will because things will never be as they were before. From now on, we are acutely aware that disaster can strike at any moment.
What do we do in the meantime? It is up to us, as a community, to rebuild and be the backbone of resilience. In our office, it has been amazing to see supervisors step up, staff adjusting schedules, and everyone working together to rebuild our lab, supplies, and vaccine inventory. This destruction, though painful, has revealed the beauty of community—neighbors helping neighbors, people being there for each other, and staying present in the moment.
Derek Moss, a partner at Hendersonville Pediatrics in Hendersonville, North Carolina, has experienced firsthand the challenges and triumphs of rebuilding after a natural disaster. He and his wife, Claire, have lived in the area since 2001, raising three children. Derek W. Moss is a pediatrician. This article originally appeared in Zócalo Public Square.
For more stories of resilience and community, visit Stanford Physician Advocate.